


Behind Her Mask

by Obsessive_Fangirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Little Bit of Death, Gen, Serial Killer, some psychopathic tendencies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 03:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16380476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsessive_Fangirl/pseuds/Obsessive_Fangirl
Summary: A ficlet for SpookyOQ where Regina is a psychopath with a mask. There is a drawing to go with this on my Twitter (@Zoe_Louisey).





	Behind Her Mask

**Author's Note:**

> There is implied character death in this, but if that’s not your thing then the ending is rather open, so there’s always the possibility that everyone in the OQ family lives.

Halloween is Regina’s favourite time. 

As a child, her house would be decked out with pumpkins, fake spider webs, toy bats… there’d be Monster Mash playing in the background, sound effects playing from whichever animated decorations still had batteries, and the smell of pumpkins and stew would float through the house, a promise of satisfied tastebuds lingering in the air. In the evenings, her and her father would dress up in elaborate costumes, go trick or treating around the neighbourhood - and eat half the candy before Mother found out how much they’d  _ really _ collected. 

But now? Now things are a bit different. 

She roams the streets, her knife dripping blood onto the concrete where her muddied boots tread, a dirty handprint on her dress from where her victim fought as she held them down, a mask covering her face with only dark eyes free to scan for her next target… 

And yet nobody bats an eyelid. 

It’s surprising really; the press had caught wind of what she was doing, publishing warnings about there being a murderer on the loose, telling everyone to be vigilant… and yet nobody seemed to really  _ see _ her. They all walked past with their friends, their children, some going so far as to hold their hand out for a hi 5, congratulating her with an enthusiastic, “ _ Cool costume... _ ”. 

Behind her mask, she smirks.

If only they knew… 

But they don’t.

In a world full of people, not one person knows the  _ real _ her. Nobody knows this secret she holds. 

It’s lonely, exhausting, and yet completely exhilarating… 

She doesn’t really have a type for her victims, per se. There are things she looks for, sure, but she doesn’t limit herself to one particular trait. The only thing which attracts her attention is love. 

The love she doesn’t have. 

That’s part of why she does this; to create balance in the world. Her love was taken away from her, and so she takes it away from someone else. 

But it’s not enough for her to end the love these people have; she wants that love for herself. 

That’s why she keeps their hearts...

Since the loss of her father, and her childhood sweetheart, she’s never felt so cold. There’s been a dark curse placed upon her, an inability to feel emotion, and so she searches for a - however momentary - respite from that numbness. 

Unfortunately for the residents of the town, she only  _ feels _ when someone’s life is fading before her very eyes, when she has the knowledge that their family and friends will have a taste of her darkness. There’s a glint of something which stirs within her, and it’s the only emotion she knows how to replicate.

But whilst the life drains from her victim’s mind, the love they hold within their heart has nowhere to go. And so with the help of her trusty blade, that love is hers now, perfectly encased in a warm, untarnished heart, cradled in her bloodied hands.

But it’s not enough. 

It’s never enough. 

The glimmer of  _ feeling _ is addictive, but the numbness within her swallows it whole before she can truly cherish it. And so these outings are more frequent now, the hunt for love she can keep for herself needs to be fulfilled more often. 

She’s on the lookout tonight. 

There has already been one person who has fallen victim to her, a man who had been traversing the woods near to her house, his love for animals and nature so potent she just  _ had _ to have it. It wasn’t her usual - familial love is more her thing - but this was new, different. 

She wanted to try different. 

And so his heart is hers now, placed in a carved box and ready to join her collection. 

But she wants more.  _ Needs _ more. 

And so she strolls along the street, finds a spot in the shadows, and just waits… Waits for someone to catch her eye. 

There’re a couple of people who are  _ maybes _ , a young woman with a streak of red in her hair, strolling arm in arm with a guy who looks completely besotted with her, but something within her says there’ll be better to come. 

And so she waits, and waits… 

Patience has never been Regina’s strong suit, especially with this side of her; the longer she’s out in the open, the more she likely she is to be noticed. 

But after what feels like an eternity, she spots something, something that makes all the waiting worth it...

_ Him _ .

A family guy, hoisting his son in the air to sit on his shoulder as he laughs at something one of his group said. There has to be half a dozen people with him, all dressed up in varying outfits to celebrate the festive spookiness, laughing and joking between them. 

The young boy’s pumpkin costume matches his bucket of candy, and as the kid rambles about what he’s going to eat next, teasing the others with all the yummy chocolate they can’t have, Regina’s eyes fall upon his father. Or more specifically; the love practically oozing from his soul. 

_ Him _ .

He’s the one.

Now, usually, when Regina finds herself a new target, she follows them, ensures that they are what she needs. But this guy… she knows he’s meant for her. Without question. 

Still, she finds herself letting them stroll past her, watching from behind the porcelain hiding her face as they unknowingly pass the source of their upcoming grief. 

Behind her mask, she frowns.

How can one person have that much love surrounding them? Judging from all the different shapes and sizes of the men accompanying him, they aren’t even family. Those are people who have  _ chosen _ to let him into their hearts, chosen to bestow upon him their love and affection. 

It angers her, and yet somehow makes him even more irresistible. 

Her fingers twitch by her thigh, the knife strapped there calling out to her, ‘ _ take him, he’s yours, steal his heart’...  _

_ Oh _ , how she wants his heart.

She allows for a reasonable distance, and then sets off after them, observing them as they laugh and joke with one another. 

She doesn’t understand how this happens, how a group of people can decide to just… love each other. And the world lets them.

Why are they allowed each other, and she’s destined to be alone? 

Well… she’ll see about that. 

If she can’t find the love she wants, she’ll damn well take it. And these people will know what it’s like to feel the bitter numbness of grief. They will share her curse. 

One by one the group split off, heading to their respective homes and apartments over the evening, until all that are left is her target, and his son. 

As they turn off up the driveway to their home, Regina waits the other side of the street, hiding underneath a large oak tree to block out the streetlight and keep herself out of his view. 

Behind her mask, she observes.

He knows something is wrong, she can tell by the tenseness of his shoulders, the increasing frequency of his checking over his shoulder… but it’s no use. 

He has no idea what’s coming. 

His son senses his unease, grabbing at his father’s hand as he leads them to their front door, even going so far as to ask ‘ _ are you okay, papa _ ?’.

She tilts her head as his father answers in the affirmative, obviously lying and yet doing so because he doesn’t want to worry him, wants to protect him out of love. 

His love will be what kills him in the end...

There’s a pang of something within her, something  _ new _ , and she gasps at the sensation. She can’t put her finger on it, and it’s gone before she can read anything into it, but now she has renewed purpose. 

She wants that new glimmer of feeling again. 

And so as soon as the front door is shut, she makes her way towards the house. Her fingers wrap around the handle, giving it a light push to test it. 

It’s locked. Though she thought it would be. He’d been too wary to leave that open. 

So she heads around the side of the house, finding a door there and testing it the same way, though this time the handle moves and she suddenly has entry to the house. 

Now, here’s the tricky part, because on the other side of this door could be anything. They may have a pet dog waiting to defend the house, there may be guests ready to kick out an intruder, there may be the owner brandishing a weapon… 

So it’s with light footsteps and controlled breathing, that she steps into the room and closes the door behind her. 

Her eyes adjust to the darkness, the only light being that from the moon which filters through the windows, illuminating the tiled floor and the marble worktops. 

How ironic that she’s in a kitchen, surrounded by all manner of sharp implements, and yet the only one she’s going to need is the small blade tucked against her thigh. 

That’s another reason she can get away with this; with just the mere threat of danger, her victim will practically give her their heart to protect their loved ones. 

There’s rarely any foul play, rarely a fight, the only exception is the man she killed in the woods. He had fought like a cornered animal, behaving like one of the creatures he was so fond of rather than a human being, and yet still she had overpowered him. 

There’s never any hope of escape from her. 

But the man who lives here will willingly let her take his heart. 

How does she know that? 

The drawings pinned to the fridge with alphabet magnets - or more specifically; the one that reads ‘World’s Bestest Daddy’ above an unevenly drawn star. They are each other’s whole world.

There’s something within her that’s drawn to it, a magnetic pull that has her reaching out until her fingers can trace the lines of wax crayon. 

And there’s that twinge again, the spark of something new that she can’t explain. 

The uncontrolled emotion has her fingers pressing a little too hard on the paper, drawing it out from underneath the magnet’s hold and sending the green ‘R’ clattering to the floor.

Behind her mask, she grimaces. 

The noise is enough to stir the inhabitants of the household, and she hears footsteps on the laminate flooring of the hallway, the telltale slowness and measured pace indicating their perception of danger. 

He knows.

This part always gets her pulse racing; her adrenaline spikes and shoots through her veins, her senses heighten as she listens, laying in wait for her victim to discover their killer. 

And sure enough, he appears, startled at the sight of someone unexpected in his house. His son appears not too long after, peeking out from behind his father’s leg.

She watches as his gaze falls upon the glint of her blade, fear taking route in his eyes as his breathing stutters… 

“Whatever you came for, just take it,” he bargains. “Just… please don’t hurt my son.”

Behind her mask, she smiles. 


End file.
